Healing
by Lexen
Summary: Percy can't hide his pain from everyone. The thestrals know this. So does Kingsley.


**Disclaimer****: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. J.K. Rowling created it all, and no money is being made from this work of fan fiction.**

**AN****: I have no beta, and all mistakes are mine. This is an entry for the "Different Genres" competition in the "Fantasy" category on HPFC. The fantasy character I chose was thestrals. This story is post-DH and AU in that it establishes a committed relationship between Percy Weasley and Kingsley Shacklebolt. I may be changing canon in saying that Percy actually witnessed Fred's death. Also, I don't write Hagrid with unique speech patterns. **

"Percy, what's wrong?" Kingsley slowed and turned around when he realized that his undersecretary and significant other was no longer beside him. Kingsley was here for his first "friendly" visit as the newly installed Minister of Magic, and as always, Percy was attending him. They'd just concluded a quick trip to Hagrid's hut to visit the gamekeeper and check in on his menagerie. Now, Hagrid was escorting them back to the castle to have tea with Minerva. Percy, however, was lagging behind, and Kingsley realized why when he saw the thestral slowly approaching Percy.

Percy had gone absolutely still, his face a picture of wonder mixed with grief as he laid eyes for the very first time on a creature that only witnessing and accepting a death would allow one to see. When the thestral was directly in front of him, Percy dazedly held out a hand, and the creature delicately lowered his head to allow it to be stroked. The skin was smooth and cool under his fingers but luminous even in the weak light that filtered through the trees.

Quietly, Hagrid pulled something from his pocket and placed it in Percy's other hand.

"Here, Mr. Weasley. They all love my rock cakes as a treat. It will eat it right up." And the thestral did, nibbling with surprising care at Percy's fingers and then startling Percy with the smooth tongue that licked the remaining bits from his skin. The creature continued to regard him with seemingly empty eyes, eyes that reminded him of the lake near his parents' home…and of the brother whose death had made this moment possible.

The creature shifted, its eyes suddenly like the sparks from a wand, and Percy couldn't help but lock gazes with it. Abruptly, he found himself enveloped in a memory nearly as vivid as a Pensieve. He saw Fred, alive and well during the Battle, moments before his death. He saw again the moment of his apology and their reconciliation. And then as if he was reliving it all over again, Percy saw Fred die.

He had no idea he'd started to sob until he was on the ground with Kingsley's arms around him. Percy tried desperately to compose himself, but Kingsley's hands rubbing his back urged him to stop trying. And he did, finally letting himself mourn for the brother he'd lost, for the loss he had pushed aside when Kingsley had needed his help immediately after the battle, and he had placed his job above his family one more time. Oddly, the thestral stayed with him, resting its large head in Percy's lap. Beside the odd trio, Hagrid urged Percy to continue stroking the thestral.

"Did it get into your mind? Sometimes they do that. Some call them comforters, you know. Some say there is no hurt that they can't help. Others say they're empathic, able to sense emotions and respond to them. This one seems to have taken a liking to you, and I have to wonder if it felt your pain, Mr. Weasley. But you just sit here and take what time you need. Minister Shacklebolt, I'll send a message to Minerva to let her know that you'll be late." Hagrid left as quietly and quickly as he could, leaving them in peace.

"I'm sorry," Percy whispered, his voice half muffled by Kingsley's robes.

Strong hands reached out, forcing Percy's red-rimmed eyes to meet his. "Don't you dare apologize or feel guilty for this, Percy! For Merlin's sake, let yourself mourn! Minerva will wait, and I will most certainly wait." He smiled a little at the thestral whose head remained in Percy's lap. "And this one will wait too. It wants to heal, and so do I. Let us help you."

They clung to each other beneath the canopy of trees as the thestral herd kept watch and the stars came out.


End file.
